


Don't Forget - Sans x Gaster (Human AU) REWRITE

by CrimsonFandomTrash



Series: Humantale Sanster Shenanigans [4]
Category: Humantale - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Good W. D. Gaster, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Accident W. D. Gaster, Pre-Canon, Scientist Sans (Undertale), Scientist W. D. Gaster, Slow Burn, W. D. Gaster is not related to Skelebros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonFandomTrash/pseuds/CrimsonFandomTrash
Summary: This is a human AU. Humans are trapped Underground, and monsters are on the surface. Our beloved characters from Undertale who were monsters are humans in this AU, and the humans are now monsters.Sans is a young adult who needs a job, and Gaster is the one to give it to him. The Royal Scientist has no idea why he hires someone so under qualified to help him run a science facility, but nonetheless, Sans now works under him as his assistant. He has no plans to become friends with Sans whatsoever; but, fate doesn't care about plans.THIS IS A REWRITE!! If you're new to my writing, I highly suggest you read this instead of the old one, as it is, in my opinion, put together much more coherently. If you're not new, well, I've been told by a couple of you that you reread the original several times, so I highly doubt you have any issue with reading this rewrite.Either way, with all that said, please enjoy.





	1. Chapter One - The Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> If you're new to my work, please keep in mind that I use a human AU. Half of me wishes I'd stayed true to the source material; another part of me tells me I'd feel awkward trying to figure out skeletal anatomy. I'm willing to go to extreme lengths to research things for my fanfiction, but that is my limit. I'm not learning what every bone in the body is called, I'm just gonna write them as humans cuz I understand human anatomy much more than I do skeleton anatomy. 
> 
> The only monster in this entire fic is Chara (the beginning of this fic takes place before Chara and Asriel kick the bucket). They're a boss monster like the Dreemurrs originally are in the source material, so their anatomy isn't all that difficult to understand. I'm just not tryna write skeletons lmao. 
> 
> So, yeah, human AU. 
> 
>  
> 
> The reason I'm rewriting this entire thing and not just chapters in the old book is because I'm not really happy with how the first one came out. I rushed Sans and Gaster getting into a relationship, and I feel like I barely developed their characters, even though it was the first book out of two and thus I should have developed further. Given more backstory, and more present story to give you a reason to care about the characters more. Not to mention Sans was a fucking drama queen, and although that probably won't change with this rewrite, I at least wanna try to make him more authentic.
> 
> Not only that, but Gaster was... Pretty boring. I've reread the first and second book many times, mainly out of boredom, also out of trying to see where I could improve, and something I noticed every time I reread was how bland he was. He's the secondary character, and in some chapters, Sans overshadows him so much that he feels like a background character. His backstory is vague, his morals, even more so, and in general, I feel like he could have opened up to Sans a bit more, and by extension, the reader.
> 
> Also, inconsistencies. The first book didn't have as many, but once the second book came around, I'd forgotten some of the things I'd previously written. The reason behind Gaster's hand holes changed, everyone's occupations in the second book were all over the place. One moment Undyne was a police officer, the next she'd been fired from several places for going in the fish tank.
> 
> Needless to say, my scattered brain isn't good at keeping track of details. Which, generally speaking, isn't a good quality to have as a writer.
> 
> Furthermore, I'm rewriting this for those of y'all who loved the original. You guys deserve better, and that's exactly what I intend to give you with this rewrite. A better version of the story you guys all seemed to cherish. Some details have been changed, some scenes, spruced up, others cut out entirely, and a few new scenes as well. I promise to give you a better story this time around.
> 
> Also, to anyone who might think I'm rewriting this because I don't have any other ideas, or just want some easy reads: Um, fuck you? I have plenty of other ideas, some even for other fandoms. It's just that this is the work I'm most proud of, and I wanna improve it. The originals were okay, but I don't wanna settle for okay. I wanna expand. I wanna make a better story. I want to be as talented as the fanfic writers I look up to. I've become a much better writer over the past few months, mainly because I've been reading more, and picking up on stuff that other people do while writing, and because of that, I wanna revisit this, my proudest work, and make it better so that both new and old readers can enjoy it better.
> 
> Without further ado, here is the rewrite of Don't Forget.

   Despite the fact that he had been expecting it, the sudden knock on the lab door had the scientist falling out of his chair onto the floor, knocking his coffee cup with his elbow and taking it down with him. It stained his lab coat and slightly burned his skin, causing him to curse himself under his breath as he stood up and took the soiled garment off. Good thing he kept a spare. "The door is open!" He yelled, grabbing the spare lab coat from the coat rack and slipping it on.

   Someone walked in, and the door slid closed behind them. Gaster looked over at them. Upon further inspection, it was a man. Or maybe a boy? He looked like he couldn't have been older than fifteen, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Maybe. He found himself cocking an eyebrow at this person. He was short, with fluffy brown hair that slightly went over one of his eyes. His eyes were a piercing light blue, and his skin was tan. He wore a light blue jacket, the hood lined with fur, over a white tee shirt, black track pants with a white stripe down the middle… and pink, fluffy bunny slippers…? Oh, jeez.

   The stranger caught him staring, but he didn't say anything about it. He blinked in confusion a couple times, his face flushed slightly red. Maybe from embarrassment, maybe from the heat of Hotland, Gaster didn't know. "Um, I'm here to ask about the lab assistant position…?" He said. It sounded more like a question than a statement.

   The scientist frowned, thinking back to earlier this week. Asgore had made him start looking for helpers, posted an ad in the paper, and there was a 'help needed' sign outside the lab. "You can't just stay in here all by yourself all day, dear friend." The king had said. "It's not good for you, and surely it can't be easy to do all that work by yourself."

   Try as he may, he wasn't able to convince King Asgore that he didn't need help or company, and here he was, with a bum in his lab, asking for a job. He didn't even look old enough to work as a lab assistant. "How old are you?"

   The stranger looked nervous as he played with his jacket sleeves. "I just turned eighteen in December, sir. I know, I don't look it."

   "Do you have any proof of identification?" The scientist asked. The stranger dug around in his pockets for a few moments before pulling a black leather wallet out. It was covered in old stickers and looked like it was falling apart at the seams. He rifled through it for a few moments before pulling out a card and handing it to Gaster.

   Sans Comic Fontz  
   DOB: 12/22/1992  
   Eyes: Blue  
   Height: 5'2"  
   Issued: 01/09/2011  
   Expires: 01/09/2015

   A picture of the male in front of him was shown on the card, and underneath his picture read ORGAN DONOR in capital letters. Huh. Interesting. "Alright…" He said hesitantly. "Follow me."

   The shorter male, who he now knew as Sans followed behind as Gaster walked over to his desk. He went through some papers before finding a blank job application. Other job applications that had been filled out by other people also lay abandoned on his desk, probably never to be picked up. Sans' application was probably gonna end up the same way. "So, I just fill this out?" He asked as soon as Gaster had handed the application to him.

   "Yes," Gaster replied curtly. "You may use the desk over there."

   Sans looked in the direction Gaster had pointed in and walked over to the spare desk before sitting in the chair and starting to quietly fill out his application. Gaster, meanwhile, sorted through the other job applications. The first person to apply for the position had been not much older than this one. He didn't really seem like he would have taken this job seriously, but then again, neither did Sans. He looked downright lazy. The scientist figured the only thing pushing him to apply for this job was the paycheck.

   Not more than ten minutes later, he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard the sound of paper being waved around. Sans stood behind him with his job application in hand, arm outstretched to hand him the finished document. "Finished."

   Gaster gave him a look before flipping through the application. Full name, date of birth, work history… He looked at the shorter male again, frowning. "You left a lot of information blank, Mr. Fontz."

   Sans froze in his tracks for a moment, and Gaster knew he'd touched some sort of sensitive subject. "Uh, no one ever gave me that information."

   "Can't you ask your family?"

   "I don't really have any family…" He said. "It's just been me and my younger brother for… Uh, well, most our lives."

   Gaster paused. He didn't even wanna begin asking what that meant. "Did you finish school?"

   "Never went," Sans replied, shaking his head.

   "What makes you think you're even qualified to do this job?" The scientist asked.

   Sans looked around, his eyes looking all over the room as he rocked back and forth on his feet, playing with the zipper on his jacket. "I'm… Not qualified, but, I really love science, and…" He looked back up at Gaster for a moment but never made eye contact. "I read a lot of your notes on your blog about the Core, and I've read a lot of books about science."

   He shouldn't even consider this boy. He's underqualified, and he looks like he belongs behind one of the cash registers at the Hotland Resort, selling fast food. Bluntly put, he looks like a bum. He looks like he's never worked a day in his life.

   But… He had a feeling in his gut that Asgore was going to bother him again about hiring someone, and he really didn't wanna deal with that. Besides, Sans seemed like one of the only applicants so far that had any interest in science. And, underqualified, bum, or not, this guy didn't look like he was stupid. He didn't look like a genius, but he probably knew more than the average person, at least in this subject. Probably.

   He was definitely overthinking this.

   "Hm…" He hummed in thought. "I'd need you to sign a waiver."

   "What’s a waiver?"

   "It's a document that states that you're responsible for any ailments you might garner while working here," Gaster answered. "Otherwise, with all this information missing, I don’t think I could even hire you." He flipped through the papers again. At least this guy had an emergency contact and an address…

   Sans nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'll take responsibility for that."

   Peculiar behavior, but he didn't really care. He just wanted Asgore to hop off. So, after going through a few more papers on his desk, Gaster found a waiver, Sans signed it eagerly, and then handed it back to Gaster. The Royal Scientist put the papers in a manilla file folder, took a marker and wrote his new assistant's name and the date sloppily.

    _Sans Fontz  
   4/7/2011_

   "You work Mondays through Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays off. When can you start?"

   Looking at the clock, and remembering that it was Wednesday, Sans quickly came up with an answer. "Monday would work."

   "Monday it is, then," Gaster replied. He held out his hand for Sans to shake, and the younger male obliged. His grip… Needed some work, and his hands were as sweaty as his forehead.

   "Th-Thank you, sir." Sans stammered nervously.

   He attempted what he hoped was a friendly smile, and it seemed good enough for Sans since he grinned in response. He wrote up a schedule for the shorter male before sending him on his way.

   4:30 PM. The scientist poured himself another cup of coffee, sitting back in his chair as he regretted his decisions up until this point. Monday… Monday was going to be interesting.

   The door creaked open, and Papyrus could hear it from his room. "Marco!"

   "Polo!" He heard back. Sans was home. He ran down the stairs, tripping over his feet a couple times as he did so, before hug attacking his older brother.

   "Sans! You're home!"

    "Sure am, kiddo," Sans replied, grinning and ruffling his younger brother's fluffy brown hair. "Did ya miss me, Freckles?"

   "Yeah!!" Papyrus answered. He pulled away from hugging Sans, hopping up and down where he stood. Sans chuckled.

   "How was school?"

   "It was great!" His brother said. Well, more like yelled. Papyrus was very loud.

   "Did you turn in your homework from last night?" Papyrus nodded. "Did you do your homework today?"

   "No homework today," Papyrus said with a grin. "We don't get homework on days we get pop quizzes. I got an A on mine, I hung it on the fridge." He pointed towards the kitchen.

   "Alriiiight, nice goin', Freckles," Sans said, holding his hand up for a high five. Papyrus high fived him.

   "What did you do today, brother?" He asked. Sans hung his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves down.

   "I got a job," Sans said, almost proud of himself. "I'm gonna be the Royal Scientist's assistant." He bragged. Papyrus gasped.

   "Wowie, brother, that sounds so cool and important!!" He exclaimed.

   "Heh, yeah. I guess so. I start on Monday. I can walk you to school, then go to work. I get off at five, so you're gonna be at home by yourself for a little bit. Think you can manage without me?"

   Papyrus nodded. "I'll get Undyne to come over. Hopefully, we can play a game with less punching."

   Sans shook his head, kicking his slippers off and shoving them to the side with his foot. "We can only hope with less punching."

   As soon as Gaster had gotten in the door of his small, one person house, he kicked his shoes off, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt before flopping on the couch with an exasperated sigh. Jeez, what a fucking day…

   Monday was gonna come much sooner than he wanted.


	2. Chapter Two - First Day On the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's Chapter Two! If you can remember Chapter Two from the first book, you'll recognize that most of this wasn't in here. As mentioned in the beginning note, there will be new scenes in here. Namely, the first several paragraphs are new content. New scenes are being added to most chapters in an attempt to lengthen the story and add more to it, give more insight into the characters' lives, and stuff like that.
> 
> I hope everyone's enjoying this rewrite so far, it's taken a lot of work to make a better version of the story. I've been putting in a lot of thought and work into this, so please leave a vote (Wattpad) or a kudos (Archive of Our Own), and a comment, because those kinds of things really make my day!
> 
> \- Felix
> 
>  
> 
> In which Sans ponders his complicated feelings towards working with Gaster, and Gaster regrets ever hiring him.

   Monday had rolled around much sooner than anyone had anticipated. As Sans got ready for work, he couldn't even decide what he should wear; eventually, he settled for a pair of black jeans, and a long-sleeved white shirt. It wasn't really anything fancy, but he could remember the weird looks he'd gotten when he walked in the lab looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, pink, fluffy bunny slippers and all.

   He got a shower, given that he couldn't really remember the last time he'd showered, got dressed, and then went to wake his brother up. Papyrus, of course, woke up the first time Sans called, and then sprung into action, getting ready for school.

   Now, he stood in the kitchen, making breakfast. There were thirty-five minutes until Papyrus was expected at school and forty-five before he was expected at work. Of course, he planned to get there early. Remembering the way the Royal Scientist had looked at him the entire time he'd been there… Well, he could tell Gaster knew exactly what kind of person he was. Carefree, or more accurately, lazy.

   And yeah, he couldn't argue with that, he was lazy, but he knew he couldn't be lazy anymore. He was getting paid more at this job than any other job he'd had before, whether it was busting tables at Grillby's, or doing magic training with the much older kids.

   But, he was an adult now, and his brother was a growing boy. He needed a steady income for his brother's constantly growing needs. Being able to fulfill his own needs for once in his life would be pretty cool, too.

   They ate their breakfast, and Papyrus rambled on about what he was gonna do at school today, and he rambled a bit about the kids in his class. It wasn't like Sans was purposefully blocking out what his brother was saying; he worshipped the ground Papyrus walked on. He just had other things on his mind. Like the fact that he was working for his idol.

   Dr. Gaster had become the Royal Scientist when Sans was only eleven. Science had always been an interest of his, especially in those trying times where he'd clung to knowledge as a coping device, mostly to deal with being beaten by bullies or going to bed hungry. The first time he'd seen the scientist's picture in the paper, the heading saying 'YOUNGEST ROYAL SCIENTIST IN HUMAN HISTORY', he basically fell in love. He'd gotten Papyrus a computer for his birthday one year, and whenever Papyrus was at school, or otherwise too busy to use it, Sans would use it to keep updated on the progress of the Core.

   He was enamored with Gaster's work for years, and soon, his fascination turned into… Something more. A celebrity crush, if you will. He'd been nervous walking into the lab, knowing he'd been about to meet his idol. His hands had been sweaty, his heart had raced, and he couldn't think straight, because he was talking to _the_ Dr. Gaster, the brilliant mind behind the Core, his childhood idol. So, needless to say, now he was nervous to even go to work for him.

   Which is why he didn't notice for a few moments when Papyrus snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hellllloooooo? Earth to Sans??"

   He blinked a couple times, looked down at his plate, and realized he hadn't eaten any of his breakfast yet. He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment before starting to eat quickly. There was still some time before they had to leave, but he didn't know how much time he'd wasted by spacing out like that. "You're gonna be good at school, right, kiddo?" He asked his younger brother, his mouth still full of food.

   Papyrus looked disgusted at Sans' table manners (or rather, lack thereof) but didn't say anything, just made a face before replying. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?"

   Sans reached across the table and ruffled his brother's hair fondly, inhaling the rest of his food before walking over to the door, taking his jacket off the coat rack and slipping it on. After that, he got some shoes on-- actual shoes, not his slippers-- and Papyrus soon followed suit, wrapping a scarf around his neck and pulling his snow boots on. Papyrus never bothered to wear a coat. Sans reckoned he could walk around naked in a snowstorm and still be warm.

   After dropping Papyrus off at school, Sans walked a bit further, making sure there was no one around him before taking a 'shortcut' to the lab. The immediate temperature difference was obvious, having gone from the cold of Snowdin to the heat of Hotland. Sweat pooled on his forehead as he looked up at the tall, white building that was the lab, the magma below glowing orange on the metal pipes and surfacing of the tall building. He looked at his phone. Seven forty-five. He was still fifteen minutes early.

   He walked into the lab, the doors sliding closed behind him as a wave of air conditioning washed over him and relieved him from the momentary heat. He felt piercing, purple eyes on his back as he took his jacket off and hung it up by the door, and when he turned around, Gaster was still staring at him. He didn't look hostile, but he didn't look particularly friendly, either. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

   "You're early."

   Sans nodded meekly. "Ah, you know what they say. If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're already late. And if you're late, it's unacceptable." And now he was nervously rambling. Despite the fact that he was cooled down by the air conditioning, that didn't help the fact that he was still sweating; from the ball of nerves in his stomach, not the temperature. "I, uh, hope you don't mind that I'm early."

   "No, not at all. I hadn't expected you to be early, but there isn't an issue with it." Gaster replied. He pointed to the desk next to his. "That's your desk." He said.

   Sans walked over, pulling the chair out and sitting in it. On the desk was a cup full of pens in a variety of colors, and next to that, a small desk plaque that read 'Mr. Fontz'. Woah… Fancy. And the chair was a spinny chair. He had to fight the urge to spin. "So… What do I do…?" He asked hesitantly. He looked over at his new boss and Gaster… Was kinda glaring at him.

   "Your first task is to refill my coffee mug." The other replied. He tapped the empty mug on his desk with his index finger. "There's a coffee pot in the break room." And then he pointed to a door on the other side of the room. Even from here, Sans could see the gold lettering on the glass that said 'Employee's Lounge'. Seemed strange to have a lounge if only one person had worked here for several years, but Sans wasn't about to question it.

   He frowned at the task. It seemed too easy. He felt patronized. But, he did suppose it was his first day. He hardly expected to be trusted with important work the first day. He didn't expect to be refilling coffee, either, but he supposed he had to start somewhere. "Got ya, boss. How do you like your coffee?"

   "Three spoons of sugar, two spoons of cream," Gaster replied, wrapped up in his work. Sans took the mug by the handle, and like a good little go-for, he went into the break room. A few moments later, Gaster had a fresh steaming cup of coffee on his desk.

   "There ya go," Sans said. Gaster looked at him, and Sans stared back. The scientist didn't hold the gaze for very long before he took a long sip from his cup. He didn't say anything, but Sans could kinda tell from his expression that he'd gotten the order right. He had a feeling Gaster wasn't gonna let him know that, though.

   He was right in thinking so. "We're going to talk about some rules and expectations. Sit down." Sans basically scrambled to obey, trying to not make it too obvious that he was nervous. "First, the uniform."

   "What the heck is a uniform?" Sans asked. Gaster wanted to hang himself.

   "Specific clothes you have to wear for a job. Today, your street clothes are fine. It's the first day, and you are…" He was basically piercing Sans with those cold, purple eyes. Sans wanted to curl up and disappear under the scientist's glare. "Apparently misinformed about a uniform. The uniform is a straight color button down shirt, a tie, black, navy blue, or khaki slacks, and dress shoes. Do you think you can manage to get stuff like that in your closet by next Monday?"

   "What's the female uniform like?"

   What the fuck? Why was he asking that? In the few seconds it took for Gaster to try to come up with some witty reply, he felt like his brain was melting from such a stupid question. "… Several questions. Firstly; do you see anyone here who is even remotely female?"

   "No… We're the only ones here."

   He didn't even wanna ask the rest of the questions he'd had in mind, because he was scared of the answer. It was like this man didn't even think. Gaster had a bad feeling he'd be firing this chump before the end of the week. "To answer your absolutely confusing question; if a woman were to work here, the uniform would be the same."

   "What about a skirt?"

   "Save all questions of that nature for after nine AM, please and thank you, Mr. Fontz."

   "You can just call me Sans. Mr. Fontz sounds too formal." Sans replied, leaning back in the spinny office chair.

   "This is a formal environment," Gaster said. He left it at that, and Sans took that as a sign that this stiff businessman was going to continue to be just that.

   "So… What do I do now…?"

   "Sit."

   "I am sitting."

   "Continue doing so."

   Sans frowned. "Is that all I'm gonna do all day?"

   "Probably," Gaster replied. "I didn't even want an assistant, and thusly don't have any work planned for your position. You're just here because the King wanted me to hire someone so I wouldn't be alone all day. I don't need or want your help, I've been doing this job on my own just fine for the past seven years."

   "Well, can we do science stuff?"

   "Later, Mr. Fontz."

   Sans could tell from Dr. Gaster's tone of voice that he was starting to annoy him. Still, the idea of not actually having work to do was mindboggling. He was getting paid to sit here? He'd never been able to just sit around doing nothing and still get money. When he was younger, he'd have to go out seeking one of his magic training buddies. The much older kids would pay him a small amount if he won in a sparring match. Sans reckoned they came to him because their parents didn't want them using their magic, for some reason. Then, not even two years ago, he'd been fired from Grillby's. The bartender had complained that Sans' ever-growing tab was getting to be more than he'd ever make in a year, and because of that, he couldn't afford Sans as an employee.

   He didn't hold it against him. He figured he'd probably have to do the same thing if he was in Grillby's shoes. He had a daughter and a wife back in Hotland to support. Sans didn't even wanna know what their air conditioning bill was like.

   An hour of silence passed before Sans realized there wasn't much else on his desk that could act as a source of entertainment. He'd balanced a pencil between his upper lip and his nose, he'd made one of those origami 'fortune teller' things that Papyrus usually came home from school with, he'd doodled a crude drawing on a couple of blank pieces of paper on his desk, and had unlaced and then re-laced his sneakers. He'd stared at the clock, and fixed his hair, he'd done just about everything there was to entertain himself. Gaster still sat in the desk next to him, oblivious of his assistant's plight, typing away on his computer. Sans frowned.

   And then something made contact with the side of Gaster's head.

   As soon as the offending object had landed on his desk after making contact with his head, Gaster snatched it up. Written on one of the wings in red pen was 'i'm bored, let's do something.'. He glared at Sans for a moment, who simply tilted his head to the side as if asking if they were going to do something now. Gaster ignored him entirely and crumpled the paper airplane in his fist before throwing it over to the trash bin. It bounced off the wall, circled the rim of the trashcan before it finally fell to the ground to become the janitor's problem later. Gaster went back to his work.

   That hadn't worked the way Sans had wanted to. "Psssttt…" Gaster glared daggers at him, and although his eyes were mostly covered by his hair, Sans could still tell Gaster wasn't amused with him. He went back to his work a moment later. "Psssttt, Gaaaaster."

   "Please be quiet so that I can concentrate, Mr. Fontz," Gaster said. Another paper airplane was thrown at him. His head whipped around to look at Sans, and Sans wanted to flinch under the harsh look he was being given. "Please stop that so I can concentrate." He said, talking slowly, his tone almost a growl.

   Sans slumped back in his seat, blowing his hair out of his face. "This isn't a very challenging job…"

   "You want challenging?" Gaster asked. "Fine. I'll give you challenging. Make sure you don't have a dull moment all day." He searched through his desk drawers for a minute before finding something that would definitely keep Sans busy for a while. He stood with the object in hand before placing it with a thump on Sans' desk. "Solve that."

   Sans picked the cube up, turning it in his hand for a moment. "Hell is this thing?"

   "An intelligence test," Gaster answered (his patience running really thin). "Get all of the colors on one side of the cube."

   "So, like, one side all red, one side all green-"

   "Yes." Gaster interrupted.

   "Okay."

   Gaster sat at his desk again, sighing as he went back to his work. Stars, help him. He should have hired one of the other applicants. At least then there wouldn't have been two paper airplane crashes with the side of his head, and he wouldn't have had to deal with a male employee asking about the women's uniform when there weren't any women working here.

   Ten minutes later, there was a tap on his shoulder. He looked over. "How-"

   "Solved it." Sans interrupted. "That was easy."

   Gaster's brows furrowed, and his eyes got this annoyed look about them. He muttered under his breath. "I think I've had just about enough of you, Mr. Fontz." He said. "I don't think you're cut out for this."

   "What?" Sans asked. He pointed at the cube. "But I solved the cube. Isn't that what you wanted?"

   "If I _really_ need to hire someone because of Asgore's insistence that I can't do this alone, despite being the sole worker here since I was sixteen years old, an assistant that could show a little decorum and engage in intelligent conversation would be appreciated. You've done nothing but goof off and ask the most absurd questions since you've gotten here, and you threw paper airplanes at my head…!"

   Very few people had ever been able to make Gaster raise his voice, and now he was turning red in the face from how annoyed he was. "I'm… I'm sorry, I just, I'm not used to sitting around doing nothing and getting paid. I've always had to work for it. I'm just kinda nervous, and a bit confused…"

   Sans didn't make eye contact as he apologized. He'd messed it up. Gaster was gonna fire him, no doubt about it.

   But, Gaster didn't yell anymore. The color in his face faded, so he was back to being pale as a sheet instead of red as a cherry, he ran a hand through his hair as he tapped the side of his coffee cup. "Please, get me some more coffee, Mr. Fontz."

   Sans got up and obeyed quickly, and within the next few minutes, there was a fresh cup of Joe on Gaster's desk. As he took a sip from the mug, he realized Sans had remembered how he liked his coffee. He was maybe even better at making a cup than Gaster himself. It wasn't much, but it showed he retained memory pretty well. "Um, could we do science stuff?"

   Gaster put the mug down. "Sure. Why the hell not? That's what we're getting paid to do."

   It was finally punch out time, five PM. The taller male locked the doors after they exited the building, looking at his assistant. "You did… Okay work today." He said begrudgingly. "Less paper airplane crashes from now on, please."

   Sans laughed a little. "Sure thing, Doc."

   "Don't call me that."

   "Well, then, call me Sans."

   Gaster paused. "Fine. Sans it is."

   Sans grinned. "Could also call me The Legendary Fart Master."

   "I am not calling you that." The Royal Scientist protested. "You're lucky I'm even calling you Sans. I don't do first names."

   "Yeah, you do," Sans said. "You called the King 'Asgore' earlier. That's his first name."

   Gaster flushed pink with embarrassment. "I have personally known Asgore for seven years. Prince Asriel was still a baby. We're on a first name basis. I've known you for a few hours. It's different."

   Sans pulled his phone out. "We should exchange phone numbers."

   "Why on Earth should we do that?" Gaster asked.

   "So you can know me for a few more hours without having paper airplanes thrown at you."

   So, his co-worker wanted to… What, be his friend?

   … Why?

   "Okay… Sure." He didn't know why he'd replied that but now it was out there and it was too late to change his mind. He supposed he was going to have to learn to get along with this guy, anyway. He was gonna see him four out of seven days of the week. He pulled his phone out, and they exchanged numbers, before shoving their phones back in their pockets.

   "See ya tomorrow," Sans said.

   "See you tomorrow…"

   "Marco!" Sans yelled as he got in.

   "Pooooolooooo!!" Papyrus yelled back.

   "Nerd's home!!" He heard Undyne yell. He mentally prepared himself for the duo that was Papyrus and Undyne as the children ran out of Papyrus' room and down the steps.

   "Can we have money?" Papyrus asked as he jumped off the last step. Wow, what a great question to come home to. Not, 'How was work, Sans?', or 'How are you, Sans?'. 'Can we have money?'.

   Undyne slapped Papyrus on the back of his head. "THAT'S NOT HOW IT'S DONE, PAPYRUS!" She yelled. "Make him smile, and then rob him!!"

   Sans raised an eyebrow. This sure was interesting to watch. "Oh, okay, Undyne! Brother, I love you lots, can we have money?"

   "What for, and how much?"

   "Glow sticks, and twenty G." Papyrus replied. Sans pulled out his wallet.

   "You're killing me, smalls. I bought you guys glow sticks last week." He handed Undyne the money as Papyrus jumped up and down.

   "I love glow sticks almost as much as I love you, brother."

  "We're gonna get them tomorrow after Paps gets out of school," Undyne said. Sans hung his hoodie and kicked his shoes off.

   "Fine by me." He plopped on the couch, leaning back. It… Wasn't a very comfortable couch, but it beat sitting on the floor. He didn't get to relax for very long before his phone started ringing. He picked up. "Hello?"

   There was silence on the other end for a moment before the person cleared their throat. "I have called to confirm that this is the right number."

   "Well, who were you trying to call?"

   "The Legendary Fart Master."

   Sans blinked and then smiled. "Yeah, this is him."

   "Okay," Gaster said. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, Sans."

   "See ya, Gaster."

   Click. Gaster stared at the phone screen for a moment. Maybe Sans wanted to be his friend, maybe he didn't. Lord knows he didn't have many friends, to begin with… He supposed only time would tell.


	3. Chapter Three - Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can remember the original version of this chapter, they had two phone calls. I merged the phone call into one in this instead and added more character development. You're welcome.

   Sans came into the lab at around seven fifty in the morning, much to Gaster's surprise. Early, his first two days? This was becoming too good to be true.

   Of course, the first thing Sans did as soon as he came in was pick up Gaster's empty coffee cup without a word. He came back a few minutes later, set the mug down, and then sat down at his desk, looking over the paperwork Gaster had put out for him. Gaster sipped his coffee, thinking to himself that Sans had, again, remembered how he liked his coffee. He had a feeling he was gonna like Sans working here. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that to Sans.

   Sans worked quietly and diligently. He seemed to appreciate being given something to actually do; being given actual work. Yesterday, he'd acted like a child, whispering over to Gaster in an attempt to grab his attention, and asking dumb questions. When that hadn't worked, he'd crashed a couple paper airplanes into the side of Gaster's head. Today, though, he worked. The scientist could almost see the gears in Sans' head turning.

   After all the paperwork had been done for the day, and it was looking like Sans was getting bored enough to try throwing a couple projectiles in Gaster's direction again, the Royal Scientist stood from his desk. Sans looked up at the sudden movement, given that Gaster hadn't moved from his desk the entire time he'd been here yet today. "What, you didn't think we were just going to sit here all day, did you?" Sans shook his head. "Come on, we have work to be done."

   Truth be told, he hadn't really done anything important with Sans yesterday after the younger male had asked if they could do some actual science stuff. They messed around with a few chemicals, mixed them together, and Gaster had Sans document the findings. It had been a time killer, basically. An excuse to do something science-y so that Sans would be satisfied and not have the time to throw paper airplanes even if he'd wanted to. The equivalent of giving a fussy baby something to play with.

   Today, however, Gaster took Sans over to the actual lab part of the building. Projects, both finished and unfinished sat around the room. On a table, there was a toolbox, filled with whatever tools Gaster had ever needed to build everything here, blueprints hung on the wall. They'd been here yesterday already while mixing those chemicals together, but Sans still seemed in awe of everything around him. Gaster could no doubt see the spark of excitement in Sans' eyes as they walked over to a particularly bigger machine, covered with a white cloth. The spark turned into a fire as Gaster pulled the sheet away to reveal the machine.

   It looked almost like a car, sort of, in the respect that there were metal doors on it, and a seat inside meant for one person. It wasn't decorated or painted in any sort of way, made only out of bare metal, like most of the other machines in here. However, it still gave off a feeling of being unique, unlike all the other inventions in here. It had been covered by a sheet a minute ago, almost as if it was supposed to be a big deal. "What's this?"

   "A personal project I've been working on for a couple years now." The scientist replied. "In simple terms, it's a memory erasing machine. The subject need only think of something they'd rather forget, turn the machine on, and it'll erase the memory of it entirely. Or, at least, that's what it's going to do."

   "Does it have a name?" Sans asked.

   "No," Gaster replied. "I've never seen any importance of naming it. I just want to finish it. It only needs a few more months of work, I think."

   "Sounds a little too good to be true," Sans said skeptically. Gaster ignored that comment-- not out of malice towards Sans' opinion, but rather out of his own pride. This thing needed to work. He's been working on it longer than even the Core-- and the Core had been his first finished invention as the Royal Scientist. It took two and a half years just to build it.

   Once they'd started working on it, Sans sat on the sidelines, handing Gaster tools from the toolbox whenever he asked for them. "What do you think the surface is like?"

   The question had come out of the blue, but Gaster aimed to answer it, anyway. "I'd imagine it's much better than this cramped little cave we live in. Plants, animals... The kind we've only seen in books. And monsters. Probably a lot of them."

   "How many monsters do you think there are?"

   "Billions, I would guess," Gaster replied. He looked over at his assistant. "... You need a haircut."

   "I like my hair this way..." Sans muttered. "It hides my face."

   "Why would you want to hide your face?"

   "Because I'm ugly."

   "No, you're not." Gaster objected. Sans frowned. "You look fine."

   "I dunno, man, I think I got a case of 'face only a mother could love'."

   ... Well, it was gonna be pretty hard for Sans' mother to love his face, given what he'd said the first day they'd met. _"I don't really have any family... It's just been me and my younger brother for... Uh, well, most our lives."_

   ... How was that even possible, though? Sans was only eighteen and had said it had been him and his brother all on their own for most their lives. His brother was younger than him, by how much, Gaster didn't know. But... That would mean that his brother couldn't be all that old, and Sans said it had been just them for most of their lives, which... Probably would mean Sans wasn't all that old when he'd started taking care of his brother. The thought of that didn't sit very well with Gaster, so he decided silently that he couldn't work anymore. He called lunch break, but he went back to his desk and didn't touch the small lunch he'd packed for himself this morning. He wasn't hungry.

   The door closed behind Gaster with a soft click. He undid his tie and flung it somewhere, not really much caring where it ended up, before flopping onto the couch. After a few moments of just sitting there, he realized the only sound in the entire house was the clock on the wall a couple feet away from him. He looked up at it. 5:49... Hm.

   And then more silence passed, and Gaster found himself scrolling through his phone contacts. He wasn't a generally social person, but... He wasn't about to sit here in dead silence, either.

   **_Asgore  
   Sans  
   Toriel_**

   His contact list was... Pretty pathetic. He only knew three people...? Well, he supposed that actually made sense. After all, how did he expect to have any friends if all he ever did was shut people out? It was his stupid fault in the first place he only knew three people. He was a rude condescending asshole to basically everyone he'd met, he was surprised he even had the three contacts. That's what you get for being socially retarded, you stupid, stupid man.

   While he was on this self-destructive train of thought already, let's also blame those ugly scars on his face. No one wanted to be friends with someone who looked like they belonged in a horror movie. That, paired with his weird, lanky body, and of course, no one wanted him in their life.

   His thumb hesitated over Sans' contact. Come to think of it, why did Sans ever even volunteer to put his number in his phone? Why would someone like Sans want to be friends with him? Why would anyone want to be friends with him? Gaster figured he could disappear from the face off the face of the Earth, and no one would even be affected. 

   He pressed the call button next to Sans' name without even thinking. The phone started ringing, and although he felt something (mind-numbing anxiety, he later thought) he tried to push it down as he put the phone up to his ear. The person on the other end picked up. 

   "Uh, sup?" Sans' voice came over the phone. 

   "I... Wanted to call to say hi." Gaster lied. "Hi."

   "I mean, I'm not complainin', but we just saw each other less than an hour ago... But, hi."

   "Hi," Gaster said again, wanting to throw himself into the firey pit of the Core. 

   "So, what are you doing...?" Is this how socialization was supposed to go? Sans had no idea. It wasn't like he had all that many friends. His brother, Undyne, and Grillby were the only other people in his contact list besides Gaster. People had never really liked him very much. 

   "Not much of anything..." Gaster answered. "You?"

   "I'm just making dinner. Mac 'n cheese." He didn't know why he felt the need to tell Gaster what he was making. He highly doubted the scientist cared. 

   "I don't feel like cooking... I'm probably just going to order a pizza." Gosh, he must sound so stiff and boring. Why did he even call Sans in the first place? To get away from the crippling anxiety the silence was causing? Now he was just even more anxious, constantly over-analyzing everything he was saying. Good going, Gaster. You should have just called Asgore, who you've known for years, who wouldn't have judged you for what you said. 

   If Sans was judging him, he didn't do so out loud. "I've never had pizza before... Is it good?"

   Never had pizza before? That should be illegal. Nonetheless, he still had to answer Sans' question. "I would say so. It's my favorite food."

   "Really? Huh. I kinda pegged you as like a... Lobster and wine kinda guy."

   "Why would you say that?"

   Sans shrugged, then remembered the other couldn't see him. "I dunno. You became the Royal Scientist when I was eleven, so I guess my kid brain just kinda... Figured you'd eat like a snob...? You're one of the most important people in the Underground."

   He was going to make some sort of sassy retort, but then remembered he had a rack full of expensive alcohols in the room over, and to top it all off, a record player and a collection of classical music. Granted, he didn't partake in fancy wines or classical music very often, but he still owned the stuff; and maybe the fact that he didn't use it just made him even more of a snob, owning expensive things with no use for them. "What's your favorite food?" He decided to ask after a moment. 

   He heard Sans hum in thought. "There's a place I frequent often not that far from my house, Grillby's. He makes the best burgers. I mean, they're dripping in grease, and'll probably kill me someday, but... We're all gonna die of something."

   Well, that was a dangerous way to think, and Gaster was going to say so, but then realized he, again, didn't have much room to talk, given his sleep schedule wasn't a schedule and he mostly lived on caffeine. He was pretty sure there was coffee in his veins at this point. "True."

   There was silence on the other end for a moment before Sans spoke up again. "So... What's your favorite color...?"

   Small talk. The worst thing in the world if you're socially awkward, and coincidentally, one of the only things you can talk about if you're socially awkward, like some messed up purgatory. "... Black. You...?"

   "Orange," Sans answered. More silence. "Do you have any hobbies?"

   Technically speaking, no. Gaster hadn't done much more than his job for the past couple years. Every now and then, he'd play chess with Asgore, or doodle on a napkin, but they didn't occupy significant enough portions of his time to really be called 'hobbies'. Simply time killers. "Not really."

   "Me either." He laughed nervously. "Sorry, I'm really boring... You probably don't care."

   "Your life can't be all that boring if you have a brother and go to the same fast food place often. I go to work, come home, go to bed, and do it all over again."

   "I don't really get to talk to my brother that often... He's always at school, and I'm always..." He hesitated. "Busy."

   Sans didn't seem like the busy type, but there was something tired about his tone. Gaster didn't mention it. It didn't affect him. It wasn't his business. They were still basically strangers. "I'm sorry to hear that." His eyes immediately betrayed him by looking over at a photo on the table next to him. He flipped it around. Not today.

   He heard faint sounds on Sans' end of the line. "Um, I'm gonna have to go. My brother's friend has him in a headlock, and this usually doesn't end well."

   Gaster furrowed his brows as he fixed his glasses. "I should call the pizza place, anyway. Have a good night."

  "You, too."

   "Bye."

   Click. He was alone again, just him, the clock on the wall, and the picture frame beside him. 

   Sans had lived with just his brother for as long as he could remember, and yet they didn't talk much? Did Sans' brother not like him? And what did he mean by 'always busy', anyway? Sans looked like he hadn't lifted a finger a day of his life before working at the lab, and it wasn't like they were really doing anything that important there, either.

   It wasn't his business, but nothing about Sans was really adding up. One moment, he sounded lazy, the next he sounded exhausted. He'd lived with his brother, and only his brother for, quote, 'most of their lives', and he wasn't even that old. And he'd never had pizza, despite obviously liking greasy foods. Sans was shaping up to be an even harder puzzle to crack than himself.

   Not that he cared. It wasn't any of his business.


	4. Chapter Four - Day Off Hangout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two awkward nerds become friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.instagram.com/p/Bm4YwryBRad/?taken-by=crimsonfandomtrash Gaster moodboard
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/Bm4ZJPohTRd/?taken-by=crimsonfandomtrash Sans moodboard

   Sans had managed to wake up much sooner than usual, despite the fact that it was Friday, and he didn't have work today. He did, however, receive his first paycheck yesterday. At twelve G an hour, Sans made 432 G a week. That was more than he'd ever made before. He still wasn't rich, but damn, he'd finally be able to feed both his brother and himself, all three meals a day. Not that that change would affect Papyrus, considering Sans had already been finding ways to feed him as many meals a day as Papyrus asked for food, but it would definitely be a nice change for him. 

   Usually, he was used to conserving money, but now he had more than he even knew what to do with. He went to Grillby's for breakfast, and the bartender was surprised to see him this early in the day. Nonetheless, Sans had his usual order of burg and fries and wasn't upset when he went to go put ketchup on it and half of the rest of the bottle's contents dumped onto his food. He was probably already going to put that much on, anyway. 

   And then, he remembered the conversation he and Dr. Gaster had the first day he worked there, about a uniform. Black, khaki, or navy slacks, dress shoes, a solid color button up, and a tie. He supposed he had to go get that stuff, now. He went to the local clothing shop, which Sans was surprised Snowdin even had one, given how small it was. A couple pairs of slacks, a couple shirts, a pair of shoes, and a couple ties later, Sans paid the woman at the cash register and then took his stuff home. 

   When he got in the door, he checked the time on his phone. It had just struck noon... Papyrus wasn't due home for another three and a half hours. So, then, he went grocery shopping, which didn't take as much time as he'd thought it would; only forty-five minutes, meaning it still wasn't even one PM, yet, and he couldn't think of anything else he had to do. He had his uniform, enough outfits to cycle around in the wash so he never wore the same outfit to work twice, he'd gone grocery shopping, and they wouldn't need more food until next payday. He still had more than half his paycheck, not that he was necessarily trying to spend it all in one day, but he hadn't expected it to stretch as far as it had, used to scraping whatever he could. He didn't need to do laundry, there weren't any household items they currently needed. 

   He frowned. He had the rest of the day to do whatever he wanted, plenty of money in his pocket, and for some reason, that annoyed him. What was he supposed to do with his time? He pulled his phone out again and looked at his contacts.

**_Gaster_  
   Grillby  
   Papyrus  
   Undyne    
**

    Papyrus was at school, Undyne was probably picking a fight with someone bigger than her, and Grillby was working. The only reason he even had the bartender in his phone was that they'd known each other for years. That only left one person that he could possibly call. His thumb hovered over the call button for a moment before he pressed down on it, and put the phone up to his ear. It was ringing.

   "Hello?"

   "Uh, hey," Sans said awkwardly. "Since it's our day off and all, I was wondering if... You'd wanna hang out...?"

   He bit his lip as the other end went silent for a moment. This was it, Gaster hated him now, he'd ruined his weekend, and now he was probably going to get fired. Good job, Sans, you immense fuck up. "... Well, I'm not busy." He blinked a couple times. That wasn't the rejection he'd been expecting. "You live in Snowdin, right?"

   Sans was going to ask Gaster how he knew that, but then remembered he'd put his address on his job application. It's not like Gaster was a creep or a mind reader. Sans had just already given him that information. "Yeah. It's the biggest house on the main road. There's Christmas lights all over it. You can't miss it."

   "Okay, I'll be there within the hour. See ya."

   "See ya."

   Click. Gaster hung up. Not really knowing what to do with his time, Sans decided to go upstairs and take a shower. One uncomfortable shower later, he got redressed, dried and brushed his hair, his employer's voice coming to mind as he did so. _'You need a haircut'_.

   He fixed his hair the way he liked it, covering most of his face. It wasn't any of Gaster's business what he looked like. Why did he care if Sans got a haircut, anyway? It was his face, not Gaster's. And anyway, he figured he was doing the world a favor. Even if he couldn't cover all the ugly up, at least he was doing a pretty good job at hiding most of it. 

   Self-depreciating thoughts out of the way, Sans figured he probably wouldn't have much more time before Gaster showed up, so he went downstairs looking for something to do in the meantime. Well, the house was kinda dirty. Not as dirty as usual, given that he and Papyrus weren't really here all that much anymore, since Papyrus was in school and he had a job, but it was still noticeable. Or, at least, Sans figured it'd be noticeable, considering Gaster _seemed_ like a clean freak. Of course, that assumption was only based on the same reason Sans had assumed he was a 'fancy food' type of person. He was important, and most important people liked keeping things tidy, he thinks.

   He straightened up the living room, which didn't take long because, again, there wasn't all that much to do, to begin with, and a few minutes after he finished there was a knock at the door. Right, the moment of truth. _Don't fuck up your chance at becoming friends with him, Sans. You're not gonna get another shot at this, and even if you do, it'll be embarrassing.  
_

   He opened the door, having to crane his neck back a little, having forgotten how freakishly tall Gaster was. The man looked like he was well over six feet tall, maybe even seven. Instead of his usual uniform that Sans was used to seeing him in, he was wearing a light grey turtleneck. He had his arms wrapped around himself, seemingly having forgotten a coat. Well, Sans did say his house was on the edge of Snowdin. He probably hadn't expected to be out in the cold for very long. 

   And the longer he stared dumbly at him, the longer he was making Gaster stay in the cold. He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment after staring up at Gaster for a few moments wordlessly before he stepped to the side to let him in from the bitter chill of Snowdin. Sans cleared his throat awkwardly as he closed the door behind him. "Hey."

   "Hello." The scientist replied, shaking still from the cold. "I forgot how cold snow was. We don't have weather in New Home."

   "You live all the way in New Home?"

   Gaster nodded. "I live close to the castle." Sans was intrigued. 

   "What's it like there? I've never gone any further than Hotland."

   "It's big, loud, expensive..." Sans sat on the couch, and Gaster followed suit before continuing his thought. "Not really the kind of place for me, but, there isn't much I can do about it." He looked around the room as he talked, not wanting to make eye contact. There were toys on the floor, a shoe on one of the steps, a rock covered in what looked to be sprinkles with googly eyes. Definitely an interesting place...

   "Oh." Was how Sans replied, nothing else to say coming to mind. Neither of them spoke for a moment. "Uhm, if you want, I could give you a tour of the house...?" It sounded more like a question than an offer. 

   "Sure," Gaster said. Sans stood from the couch, and the scientist did as well. 

   "Well, this is the living room, obviously," Sans said. Gaster gave another look around the room. "And here's the kitchen." He continued, walking into the next room over. A standard looking kitchen, Gaster didn't even need to step into the room to be able to see the entirety of it.

"Mhm." He hummed in response when Sans hadn't said anything else, probably expecting some sort of response. The one Gaster gave was, admittedly, lackluster. 

   "And, if you follow me up the steps..." The shorter male trailed off as he walked over to the steps, starting to go up. Gaster followed behind, and there was a door nearly directly at the top. "That's my brother's room," Sans said, pointing to the door. It was covered in a bunch of caution tape, and a 'do not enter' sign. Hm. "And at the end of the hall is my room and the bathroom." He pointed to each door respectively, though neither were decorated like his brother's door. They were just normal, wooden doors. "And that's it."

   "You have a nice place," Gaster replied. In all honesty, the house was a bit small, but then, his own place seemed too big for his liking, and Sans was only living with one other person. It didn't have to be big. Neither did his place, but that didn't stop Asgore from giving Gaster one of the larger homes in New Home.

   Sans merely shrugged. "Home is where the heart is." They walked back down the stairs, and Sans checked the time. Two thirty-five. "My brother should be home from school soon." He muttered.

   Gaster didn't know what to expect. The only thing he knew about Sans' brother was his name and the fact that Sans loved him very dearly. The only reason he knew Papyrus' name was that Sans had been talking about him. The only reason he knew Sans loved him was that, when he did talk about Papyrus, it was only ever in a positive light.

   Sans had suggested a few things they could do, and eventually, they settled on Scrabble. This was relatively easy, given Gaster had always liked crosswords. They played for a little while, and then the door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud smack as a gust of cold air came in. Luckily, no one seemed to notice that Gaster nearly jumped out of his skin. 

   They both looked at the front door, and two children walked in, a tinier child with brown hair, bright orange eyes, and freckles, and an older looking girl, with bright red hair, dark skin, and yellow... Eye. There was an eyepatch over one of her eyes. 

   He was gonna go off on a limb and assume the kid that looked just like Sans was more than likely his brother, given the other child didn't look like him at all, and she was a girl, and therefore not a brother. "Brother, I'm home from school!!" The younger looking boy yelled enthusiastically as he shut the door behind him and the red-headed girl. "Who's the giant?"

   "Uh, bro, this is Dr. Gaster, the Royal Scientist?"

   "Oooohhh, so you're the one who gave my big brother a job?"

   "Yes, that would be me," Gaster replied. 

   "Thank you!" Papyrus said, grinning. "He needed a job. A; he ever does is sit up in his room, making weird noises."

   The red-headed girl started laughing, and Sans flushed pink as Gaster tried to process that sentence. That was more than he needed to know... But, it wasn't really surprising, given Sans'... Personality. "Um, Paps, how about you and Undyne go play upstairs?"

   "Okie dokie!!" Papyrus yelled. He dragged a cackling Undyne upstairs into his room, leaving the two adults alone in the awkward silence. Gaster cleared his throat, fixing his glasses. 

   "That was more than I needed to know."

   "I-It's really not what it sounds like..." Sans said, his face flushing even more. "Not, um, _those_ kinda noises."

   "What kind, then?"

   "Uh, we never finished playing Scrabble," Sans said, blatantly moving onto a different subject. He obviously didn't want to talk about it. 

   Gaster placed a few tiles down on the board since it was his turn and he'd already thought about the word he was going to make before Papyrus and Undyne came in. "Your brother looks just like you."

   "You think so?" Sans asked. 

   Gaster nodded. "You're very lucky to have a sibling. Growing up alone gets very boring."

   He was going to say 'lonely', but then realized he didn't want to be that emotionally honest. He still barely knew Sans, and there were even things about his past that Asgore didn't know, despite the fact that he was probably the person Gaster was most comfortable confiding in. "Your mom and dad never had any other kids?"

   Sans watched him visibly cringe at that question. "My brothers died in a tragic accident." He finally replied after a moment, obviously not wanting to talk about it, but having been backed up into a corner by Sans' question. "I survived."

   "Uh, sorry..." Sans said, knowing he'd struck a sensitive spot. He was still curious though. "Were... You the oldest brother?"

   "I was the youngest of triplets," Gaster replied. He didn't seem to want to say much else on the matter, so Sans dropped it entirely. 

   "Sorry, if I, uh, hit a soft spot." He apologized. "You must miss your brothers."

   "It's your turn. In the game."

   Sans took his turn, and they were both down to two tiles with no extras in the bag. Gaster had won, and Sans put the game away, and the Royal Scientist rubbed his eyes. "Are you okay?"

   "Yes, I'm fine," Gaster said. It was obviously a lie.

   "Okay..." Sans said, wondering if he should press. He didn't. "Anything specific you wanna do?"

   "Do you have any other board games?"

   -------------------------------------------------

   "Okay, now you're just showing off," Sans said, showing mock offense and sticking his tongue out childishly.

   "It's not my fault you suck at chess."

   "Alright, get it over with." Sans rolled his eyes. Gaster picked up the permanent marker they had been using throughout the night. Whoever won the game, got to draw whatever they wanted on the other person's body.

   "Roll your sleeve up," Gaster said. Sans obliged, rolling his sleeve up to his elbow. As Gaster went to draw on his colleague's arm, he noticed something peaking out from under the fabric of Sans' shirt. Just a little bit above the bend of his arm, small, faded red marks. He hesitated for a moment before drawing a dick on Sans' arm. 

   "Pfff, real mature, dude."

   "You're just jealous that I thought to draw a dick, and you didn't," Gaster said, trying to ignore what he'd just seen and keep the levity of the situation. It wasn't his business.

   "Yeah, okay," Sans said. Gaster capped the marker as Sans checked the time. "Holy shit, it's already ten."

   The scientist put the marker down. "That late already?" Sans nodded. "I should be getting home, then. I don't feel like walking home after midnight." The pair stood and walked towards the door. 

   "Um, this is a bit of an awkward question, but..." Sans bit his lip. "We're friends, right? I'm kinda new to this whole, socializing thing. The closest thing I've ever had to a friend is my brother, so I have no idea how people determine if they're friends or not, and-"

   "I'd say we are." Gaster interrupted him. "You're a very interesting individual, Sans."

   Sans flushed red for probably the millionth time today. It seemed he got embarrassed easily. He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "And you're surprisingly lively, for such a serious guy."

  "Thank you."

   He wanted to bring up what he'd seen, but, he didn't want the night to end on a sour note. It wasn't his business, anyway. Not his place to question what Sans did. The shorter male opened the door for him, and Gaster stepped out into the cold of Snowdin."See ya later?" Sans asked.

   "See you later," Gaster said. He walked away, hearing Sans close his door after a few moments. He walked briskly, eager to get out of the cold.

 

 


	5. Chapter Five - Saturday

Nope.

   That was the only thought that came to mind as Sans gained consciousness for the day. Nope, I don't wanna be awake, I don't wanna be dealing with this, I wanna stay in bed. In all fairness, he very well could have stayed in bed. It was Saturday. He didn't have to get Papyrus up for school, he didn't have to get up for work, he'd done all the errands yesterday before hanging out with Gaster. He should have just gone back to bed. But, he didn't. Why? He didn't know. He was probably a masochist or something.

   Speaking of Papyrus, he was at Undyne's at the moment. They hadn't stayed for very long after Papyrus had come home from school, only staying long enough for Papyrus to pack an overnight bag so that he could stay over at Undyne's. He wasn't subject to come home until some time later today. He looked at the clock. It was eleven AM. Papyrus and Undyne had a tendency to not sleep at sleepovers, instead staying up as late as they possibly could, so his brother was still probably asleep at this point. 

   He sat up in bed, looking around his room. Self-sustaining trash tornado in the corner, a lamp on his desk, unplugged, with a dead flashlight in the part of the lamp that would normally hold a light bulb... Yup, definitely his room. He looked over at the calendar on his wall. It was a cat calendar. This month, April, had a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. Y'know, usual cat stuff. He stood up a little too quickly, leaning against the wall as a head rush overwhelmed his senses for a few moments, before taking the red marker on top of his dresser and using it to mark off yesterday's date. 

   Friday, April 15th, 2011.

   He'd mark off today's date tomorrow (since that's what you're supposed to do with calendars). 

   In some lame attempt at a morning routine, Sans decided to go brush his teeth. He did so while looking in the mirror, which he didn't do very often. It wasn't that he had a low self-esteem... It was that he had no self-esteem. He almost didn't even recognize himself. It was pretty obvious to him that he looked older than he was supposed to, expression-wise, at least. There were dark bags under his eyes that made him look older than he actually was. Height wise, he figured he probably looked about thirteen or fourteen. Needless to say, this is exactly why he didn't look in the mirror more often. 

  As he went to wash his face, looking down into the sink, he noticed the drawing on his arm from last night, now slightly faded from sweat. Permanent marker wasn't actually permanent.  He also noticed just how close the top of the drawing was to where the bend of his arm happened to be, and part of him wondered if Gaster noticed the cuts. If he did notice, he didn't say anything. He probably didn't notice, given that he'd always cut in very specific places to make sure no one ended up seeing them. 

   He reasoned to himself a million times before that cutting wasn't helping, but there was always this itch in the back of his head to hurt himself, anyway. He was torn between liking and hating the sensation of a razor blade gliding across his arms, and the thought of it only served to make his arm itch with a need to mark himself up more. He was about to reach for the razor blade when his phone went off in his pocket. One new text. 

   ** _Gaster  
   11:50 AM  
   Good morning_**

   He didn't reply back. He didn't know how to respond back. Common sense told him he should just return the gesture and say 'good morning' back, but really, there wasn't anything good about this morning at all, and if he didn't get something to distract him soon, he was gonna go crazy. 

   So, of course, he pressed the call button, instead. He panicked for a moment, knowing there wasn't any way to take it back, and wondering if Gaster would be annoyed or creeped out by Sans calling him literally the moment he sent something as innocent as a good morning text. Anxiety crawled and tore its way through him until Gaster finally picked the phone up. "Sans?"

   Sans decided it would be best to play dumb. "Uh, sorry." He said, laughing (nervously). "Hit the wrong button."

   "Hm." Was all that Gaster replied. That was it, Gaster definitely hated him now. "Do you want to hang out again?"

   Again, this wasn't the rejection Sans had been expecting, much like yesterday. "Uh, yeah, sure." He tried playing it cool. Wasn't this called 'playing hard to get' or something like that? Not that the scientist was trying to 'get' him. He was definitely overthinking this. 

   "Your place again?" Gaster asked. Sans nodded, but then remembered the other couldn't see him. 

   "Uh, yeah, sure." It was the same reply. _Fucking idiot, add some other words._ "If it isn't too big of a burden for you to walk all the way over here again, that is."

   "It's no problem," Gaster assured him. "I'll see you soon."

   "See ya..."

   Click. Sans wanted to hang himself for his crimes against social interaction. There was no reason for him to be acting like this. Gaster had already said that they were friends. There was no reason for this kind of behavior at all. 

   He gathered himself. Right, Gaster would be here soon. He had to think of some way to keep his company entertained. He didn't wanna bore Gaster away. Of course, his mind immediately went to the one thing Sans knew. 

   Alcohol.   
\-----------------  
   It was his favorite kind. He didn't know what kind of alcohol Gaster liked, but personally, Fireball was his favorite drink. Cinnamon whiskey. Most regulars at Grillby's liked malt beverages, like beer, but Sans liked whiskey. Liquor did it quicker, after all. 

   Besides enjoying alcohol for its effects of forgetting, Sans liked the social aspect of drinking, too. Or, at least, he figured he probably did, considering he'd never really drank socially. Alcohol loosened people up, and Gaster was a stiff individual most times, he'd noticed, especially at work, it seemed. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was so emotionally reserved. They were friends now, though, so Sans wanted to learn more about him, as he figured Gaster might wanna learn things about him, too. 

   Not that he could understand why someone as smart and important as Gaster wanted to be friends with him, but he wasn't really complaining. Up until the scientist had come into his life, he'd been pretty lonely. Borderline lonely, come to think of it. Grillby was a great friend and all, but he had a business to run, and a family to take care of. There was only so much the bartender could do for him, which is why he wanted Gaster to stick around. 

   He went into the kitchen and grabbed two cups. Usually, whiskey was served in shot glasses, but Sans had only turned the legal age to drink recently. That hadn't stopped him from drinking before he was eighteen, but anyway, he usually drank straight from the bottle and had never been financially well off enough to buy shot glasses. Cups would have to do. 

   Sans set the bottle of alcohol on the coffee table, along with the two cups. He'd already called his brother, and he'd said he wanted to stay at Undyne's for one more night, which was probably for the better. He had no idea what type of drunk Gaster was. He probably didn't get violent, given that he looked, despite his height, like he couldn't hurt a fly, but there was no way of knowing, and it was better safe than sorry.

   There wasn't much else he could do here, besides wait for Gaster, so he sat on the couch. Not even five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. He felt his stomach churn with anxiety as he stood up and basically scrambled over the door, stumbling over his own feet before regaining his balance and wits. Breathe in, breathe out. There was no reason to be acting this way. With as much calm as he could muster, Sans opened the door. 

   Yup, there was Gaster. This time, he'd been wise enough to wear a coat. A trench coat. Seemed fitting, considering trench coats kinda just looked like slightly longer, slightly thicker lab coats. He stepped to the side to let Gaster in, despite the fact that the cold wouldn't be bothering him as much as yesterday, he still wasn't gonna just let him awkwardly stand out there. Gaster walked in, brushing the snow off his shoulders. "Hey."

   "Hey," Gaster replied, sounding stiff as ever. Sans wondered if this was as awkward for Gaster as it was for him. Probably. 

   "You can hang your coat on the coat rack right there," Sans said, not even bothering to point, considering Gaster was standing right next to it. The scientist did so. "Make yourself at home." It was only with a moment of slight hesitancy that Gaster did, indeed, make himself at home, sitting on the couch. "Um, what's your opinion on alcohol?"

   "Why do you ask?"

   Sans gestured to the bottle over on the coffee table. "I figured it'd help lighten the mood a little. I, uh, find it helps loosen people up."

   Gaster eyed the bottle curiously for a few moments. "Do you mind if I read it?"

   "No," Sans said. That was a weird question. Why would he mind him reading the bottle? Either way, he walked over to the table and picked the bottle up before walking over to the couch, and handing it to Gaster. The scientist fixed his glasses, and read the bottle. 

   "I don't drink very often," Gaster said, after having apparently decided he was done reading. "When I do drink, it's never anything this strong."

   "I've been drinking since I was fourteen." And he doesn't know why he just comes out and says that, because now Gaster is looking at him with some sort of look that he doesn't really like, and he just wants to curl up in a ball and die. 

   "How did you even buy alcohol at that age?"

  "My friend owns a business, down the street. Uh, we've basically known each other since me and my brother showed up in Snowdin, and he knew I was on rough times, so... He didn't wanna sell me booze at first, but I talked him into it."

   More like begged. He can still remember the day it happened, can feel the phantom tears streaking down his cheeks as he rejected again and again, because 'it's against the law, Sans, I don't want my dad to get in trouble, selling a minor alcohol is a good way to get a business shut down'. Grillby Sr. had been the one running Grillby's at the time-- Grillby Jr. had only taken over a little over a year ago when his dad had retired. Sans kept begging, though, and finally, Grillby gave in. "That's illegal."

Gaster's voice pulls him back to reality from the four-year-old memory. He shrugged. "It's a pretty dumb law, though." He decides now would be the best time to serve the alcohol, to, as aforementioned, lighten the mood, which has admittedly gotten sour. "Doesn't really matter much anymore. I'm legal, now." He says, pouring a bit of the drink into the two cups, and handing one to Gaster.

   The scientist looks down at the liquid in his cup like it'll jump out at him. Or, maybe that's just Sans' interpretation. Either way, he looks hesitant to consume it. Sans takes a sip of his first, in some attempt to break the ice, and it works, but after Gaster swallows the contents of his sip, he coughs. "That's strong." He mutters.

   Sans watches the alcohol slosh around in his cup for a moment. "So, um, now that we're friends, we should get to know each other better, right?" He asked. Gaster gave a curt nod. "Where were you born?"

   "I was born in Waterfall, not very far from here, actually," Gaster replied. "I've... Already told you about my brothers. Their names were Berlin and Kozuka. Berlin was the middle child, Kozuka was the eldest, and I was the runt."

   "Um, how... How did they die?" He quickly regretted asking. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

   "A stupid accident," Gaster replied. "They fell down the stairs, and cracked their skulls open."

   "At the same time?"

   "Yup." Gaster took another sip from his glass, and it went down a bit smoother this time. "What about you? Where were you born?"

   He knew he was going to have to explain the weird phenomenon that was his existence as soon as Gaster had said last night that they were friends. He knew Gaster would eventually be curious about his origin, as everyone eventually was. "I don't know. I just... Woke up in the woods one day, with barely any memory. All I could remember was me and my brother's names, and our birthdays. He was a little under three, and I was about to turn seven."

_"It's just been me and my younger brother for... Uh, well, most our lives."_

   That sentence, in particular, had been plaguing Gaster's mind for quite some time now, and now there was context to back it up. "Who took care of you?"

   "Me," Sans replied. "I trained with older kids, and they'd give me a handful of coins if I won our sparring matches. I did odd jobs for neighbors, I sold my belongings if I had to. I'm still the one taking care of us, which is why I really needed to get this job... Sparring with kids and doing odd jobs doesn't really put food on the table, anymore. Not for me, at least."

   It was so haunting how casual about this he was being, how fine with starvation and overworking Sans seemed to be-- how it seemed to be normal for him. He'd been all of seven years old when he'd started caring for his brother, and here he was at eighteen, still doing it. This was just his life. "... When my brothers died, I ran away from home. I didn't want to be there anymore without them there... We were nine when they passed away. I had to fend for myself, too, but..."

   There was an unspoken agreement here. Without finishing his sentence, Gaster could tell Sans could understand what the rest of his sentence was going to be. 'But I only had myself to take care of'.

   And suddenly, the mood was even sourer than it had been before. 

   "The kids closer to our age used to pick on us a whole lot... Mostly me. Only the older kids were ever nice to us. Until Undyne came around. I was getting my ass kicked, and she just swooped in and saved the day. She's kinda the closest thing me and Pap have to any other family."

   "... Sans."

Sans looked up from his cup, and over at Gaster. "Huh?"

   "Why do you hurt yourself?"

   He blinked a couple times in surprise-- could Gaster have seen? "I, uh... Dunno what you're talkin' about."

   "Yes, you do. I've already seen, there's no point in lying." Fuck. "You know it solves nothing, right?"

   Well, so much for Gaster being emotionally reserved. Gone was the usual professional tone in his voice, and in came a concerned tone, instead. "You... Wouldn't understand."

   "I understand fully." Gaster objected. 

   "I don't wanna talk about it."

   "You've already not talked about it for long enough. I'm trying to help you."

   "... Well, prove it, first. You said you understand, so prove it."

   He really didn't want to, but it was only fair, considering he was trying to force Sans into a conversation he didn't want to have. He's never shown anyone else before this, but if it helped Sans, then he guesses it's worth it. Thinning his lips into a line and furrowing his brows, Gaster pulled the sleeves of his sweater up. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence between them as Sans took in the sight of Gaster's arms. 

   For lack of a better term, Gaster's arms looked... Well, fucked. There were old scars raised so high on his skin, it looked like he'd cut in the same place every time the wounds managed to heal over. The cuts were going in all directions, and there were some especially nasty ones going vertically on the scientist's wrists, right over his veins... And those weren't the only kinds of marks on his arms, either. Small, circular scars... Burn marks? It made what Sans had done to himself pale in comparison. "Jeez... You, uh, really went nuts on yourself there, Doc."

   "It didn't solve anything. So, I stopped. I suggest you do the same. I'm not going to claim to know what you've been through, or say some optimistic bullshit, like 'don't worry, it gets better', or something like that, but I can tell you that marking yourself up just makes you feel even worse."

   It hadn't been his business to get involved, but maybe it was for the better that he did. Sans didn't say anything, simply nodded his head, and downed the rest of his drink. Gaster followed suit. It was gonna be a long fucking day.


End file.
